, , , , ,

Here’s a play-by-play of how the trip went. Rob was already down in Seaside, CA with his family down there when Sean and I left Saturday morning. We met at the gravelly little park-n-ride close to where 280 and 92 smack into one another. It was a gorgeous day. Sunny, warm, a cool breeze coming off the fog that sat at the top of the hills like the fake cotton snow you put around the base of a plastic Christmas tree. We decided to take Highway 1 all the way down to Monterey. I figured by the time we hit Pescadero the fog would have burned off. It stuck with us most of the ride down, making it a chilly, yet still pretty, ride. Like the man said, “A foggy ride to Laguna Seca to watch MotoGP races is still better than a beautiful day not riding to Laguna Seca for MotoGP races.” I actually said that to Sean. You can call me the man if you like…

I took this in Watsonville with my iPhone when we stopped for gas. I’m not sure why, but it is the only photo from the drive down.

So we got down there around… I already forget. One, maybe two pm? Rob came over to the hotel to meet us and hook us up with the key to his uncle’s room. I’m still in debt to Rob’s uncle for that. Such a last minute save as we were unsure where we were going to stay. While waiting in the parking lot a man walks up to Sean and I and asks, “Hey, can you help me pick up my bike? I just dropped it off the back of my truck.” Oh man, an awesome Moto Guzzi bounced on the ground. Given the circumstances, this guy’s bike remained pretty amazingly intact. The front windshield and fairing were a bit smashed, the tail section scraped up a bit, but all the vital parts looked great. We decided it was the kickstand that saved the engine from a beating. After picking it up (and drenching my hand in the gas that was leaking from the tank), bashing some of the parts back into place, he hopped on and started it right up. He even rode it a bit. Pretty lucky for such an unlucky thing to happen.

It was at Denny’s later, while we were eating lunch that I had the horrid realization that I forgot my ticket… Yes, I forgot my ticket. Shut up, you’ve done stupid things too. After a few phone calls back up to the Bay Area, and some attempts at organizing friends who were coming down here (Justin) to meet up with room mates who have access to the tickets (Jeff), I saw that that wasn’t going to work. I called the ticket office with my fingers crossed. To make a long story short, it was relatively easy to get it all together and get my ticket, parking pass and paddock pass and enjoy the races.

More tomorrow…